


Fighting the Ghosts

by Fabrisse



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Gun Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-14
Updated: 2009-08-14
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of these days, he was going to have a long talk with his subconscious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting the Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by tres_mechante
> 
> Mentions of unrequited Hotch/Reid
> 
> Warning: Psychologically dark
> 
> A story of mine from Rounds of Kink which hadn't been cross-posted yet.

His groin felt hot and sticky and, as he woke, one last twitch of his cock added to the mess.

Austin stirred beside him, murmured, "You could have woken me," and gave him a sleepy kiss. Spencer pressed her back into the matress and felt her breasts against his chest, the nipples pinking against him. She opened her mouth, and he dove in with his tongue, teasing her, inviting her between his lips.

As his hips started to move, he felt the cooling moisture and pulled away. "I would have awakened you, if I'd been awake. Let me just … " he motioned to himself and continued, "I'll be right back." Spencer nipped at her shoulder and stepped out of the bed as she giggled.

He opened the door to the bathroom, letting the light out. He closed it quickly when he saw her tug the covers over her head. 

It was impossible to see himself clearly in the mirror without his contacts in. He'd left his glasses by the bed, too, which was just as well. Spencer wasn't certain he'd like the man he saw. He debated with himself for a moment and flipped on the shower. It was easier to let the water sluice him off than to fumble for a washcloth.

He stepped out and dried off quickly wondering if Austin would be waiting for him or if she'd turned over and gone back to sleep. He debated whether to grab his underwear from earlier out of the laundry hamper, but figured it was better just to sleep naked. 

Austin was smiling when he came out, and he slid in beside her with a kiss. Her response left him in no doubt about her wanting more. It was too soon for him, so he kissed his way down her throat and gently indicated that she should turn over.

Spencer loved feeling her spine wriggle against his chest and listening to the sounds she made as he drew her nightgown up her thighs and slipped his hand underneath it. One hand cupped her breast, piquing her nipple and eliciting little gasps; the other carded at her pubic hair until she opened her legs. 

She was wet and ready. Spencer pressed his thumb against her clitoris while two fingers spread her folds. He waited until she started grinding against him before gliding two of his fingers inside her. She groaned at the sensation, and he dragged his teeth down the back of her neck to see if he could get her to do it again. She did, and Spencer grinned to himself.

His thumb pressed harder, and he found her rhythm bringing her up short and then slowing down before she could come. She finally pressed her hand on top of his and closed her legs tightly. He obliged her by pushing his fingers deeper, and Austin rolled her head back against his shoulder. 

Spencer whispered, "Come for me," in her ear, and immediately felt her walls begin to pulse around his fingers. 

He was hard now and rolled his hips just enough to get her to notice. "May I?"

Austin moved so that she was facing him and threw her leg over his hip. "Definitely."

Spencer slicked his erection with the juices on his fingers and then rolled on a condom. He barely got it in place before she turned him onto his back and sank on to him. She rode him hard and fast tantalizing his skin with light quick touches and kisses. He grabbed her hips and held her in place as he sat up and thrust deeper. 

She was tightening around him, licking at his throat, pressing messy, wet kisses to his lips while he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He felt the first ripple of her climax and held on through it until she began to subside. He drove deep, twice and came hard. He could feel the sweat plastering his hair to his face. And Austin was nearly boneless in her satisfaction.

He took care of the used condom and wrapped her close.

She said, "I can't believe you have wet dreams when I'm lying right here."

Spencer kissed her hair. "Neither can I."

"I'm going to have to remember that shy geeks have hidden depths." She nuzzled into his shoulder as her breathing evened back into sleep.

It wasn't the first time she'd implied, however vaguely, she might be ready for another man in her life. Spencer knew this wasn't a long term relationship. He thought she might already be dating someone else.

It didn't matter. They'd been good for each other, and when it ended it wouldn't be rancorous. In the meantime, there was good sex.

But the dreams kept coming, and, no matter what she thought, they weren't of her. 

If they had been of Hotch's reassuring hand on his shoulder, or the tight hug he'd been given after being rescued from Hankel, Spencer could understand it. He'd come to terms with his bisexuality before he joined the FBI. He generally preferred women, but there were some men, like Hotch, who attracted him the same way a bright and beautiful woman did. The first time he clapped eyes on Hotch, he'd lost blood flow to his brain. 

He couldn't just brush aside these intensely sexual dreams with a shrug and a mental, "hey, you have a crush on your boss." Spencer was remembering more of them now, and he really needed to have a talk with his subconscious.

Hotch instructing him on how to shoot would be fine. Instead, it's the feel, not just of the gun in his hand, but of the kick when it fires, the thrill when the bullet hits its target, the brand-new eye in the middle of Dowd's forehead, and the satisfaction of taking out Raphael. His cock is spurting at the kill, and he despises himself for it.

He nearly threw up when Jack Vaughn shot Ryan Phillips in front of him. He did his best to comfort Tobias in his last moments. He fucking put himself between law enforcement and a killer to keep from witnessing another death. And coming between Hotch and Chester Hardwick could have been ruled suicidal, but he didn't want another death, even that of a serial killer, on his conscience.

For one brief moment, a craving ran through him. Dilaudid would either take him away from this or let him enjoy it. He started a relaxation exercise to push it away, and Austin snuggled in closer, her lips brushing his bicep.

There would be time in the morning for sex and brunch, or vice versa, before he took her to the airport and kissed her goodbye. 

And maybe tomorrow night, there won't be any dreams.


End file.
